Reincarnate
by WandererDWS
Summary: Tori has always had strange dreams about a life she never lived. What she didn't expect was for one of the recurring characters of those dreams to walk into her real life and act as if he knew everything about her. And with him comes a whole bunch of crazy that threatens not just her existence, but that of the whole world. (Fellowship reincarnated)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

People believed in all sorts of things. God, either plural or singular, magic, miracles, the almighty President of America, their own undisputable logic, and so on. I was a person too, one of gazillions ever to wonder this Earth. So I guess I had to believe too. Though for me, that belief was usually placed in other people, which is charming as it is dangerous. I even let myself believe some crazy happenings that were ever so often featured on local news. I mean, miracles do happen. I knew that. I was, after all, part of one myself.

But even with all that, I could never bring myself to believe in a concept so difficult to grasp as Reincarnation. See, as a child, I often dreamt of strange worlds. Not the _dream_ dreaming kind, mind you. I was very much awake and aware, though of what, I now cannot say. Many years have passed since, and all I have left with me now are shattered pieces of a life, a world made up by my overly active childish imagination. Still, I think of those memories fondly, since they always seemed much more exciting than the dull life I led at that time. Not for a second did I actually believe that those were fragments of a reality I once lived in.

Imagine my surprise when a recurring figure of those precious daydreams suddenly emerged in my very real, adult life. And he was not alone.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Welcome, my fellow nerds!_ _This is my_ _first LOTR fanfiction posted on the site. I don't want to spoil anything, but I wanted to make a few things clear before you start reading. The story is set in the 21st century, and will feature some of our favourite characters from the books (and movies), but none of them in the form you expect. It will probably feature most of the Fellowship, some more than the others. Hope you'll enjoy, and let me know what you think about it!_

* * *

 **Tori's POV**

Let me begin by stating the obvious. Being reincarnated into a world wholly different from the one you've known all your life, is suffice to say, hard. What we've learned pretty fast though, is that it's a fickle creature, Reincarnation is. It can tear you apart and lift you up all at the same time.

It was different for all of us.

For Reed, it was a sickness. His old life haunting him like a monster, its tentacles never letting go. It took a lot more than a few words of reassurance to convince him that he was as sane as they come. For me, well, it was like a pleasant dream. Or better yet, a story. A story of a life lived by someone else, someone I felt connected to, but someone else nonetheless.

* * *

It was a Thursday that changed the world as I once knew it. I usually worked all week at a firm downtown, trying to balance earning money and studying for my university entrance exam. I was fired not two weeks prior though, and agreed to step in for my sister at her job at Corkey's. She was a clever one, my sister. You saw her at seven and you already knew there were great things in store for her. She did… have great things in store. In her belly, to be more precise. She got pregnant at eighteen and refused to abort the child, a decision for which I will forever admire and resent her.

A long time passed since then, and she seemed to have finally recieved her happily ever after, what with a nice bloke for a husband and a twelve year old angel living in her home.

I graduated high school and even managed to get a useless diploma during the time she was making a life for herself. I wouldn't say I had it worse than anyone else. Far from it, actually. I had my parents' undivided support and even managed to land some fairly good jobs since graduating. Not that they had anything to do with my diploma, mind you. But they were enough for paying my bills, and I had time to study subjects that were of actual interest to me.

Sure, getting fired was not part of the plan, but I had to hope I could find something else in time. Otherwise I'd have needed to ask for my sister's help, who had a daughter to care for without me intruding on their lives. Or there was always the possibility of going back to my family's house, which I dreaded even as a last resort.

* * *

Loading the contents of the basket onto the counter was something I could never get used to. To do this day after day, like Trish did, seemed like a very detailed picture of hell painted for me.

"Mind if I put that back?" my current customer said. The man was slowly getting on my nerves, asking me to put back literally every other thing I've already scanned. Seeing my murderous expression, he added, "I won't be cooking turkey after all."

"So, when is Trish coming back again?" he asked after a couple of blissfully silent minutes. I huffed. Of course this man knew my sister by name. She always had a way with anyone, even indecisive assholes who had nothing better to do on a Thursday night than to annoy cashiers to death.

"I'll just hop over and ask the doctor for you." He didn't respond to that. Sure, I might've been a tad rude, but it was a long day and he didn't help.

"Would you like a bag?" I said with a forced expression of calm on my face. I think I heard a snicker behind him and caught a flash of blonde from the next person in line. Such a strong sense of déjà vu came over me that I did not dare look up, in case it was someone I knew. It's not that I felt ashamed to be seen working at Corkey's, but letting an acquaintance see how miserable I've become, not even being able to handle an annoying customer on a Thursday night, was something I didn't want to deal with.

"S'fine."

I was way past politeness at this point. "Card?"

"Cash," he answered quietly. Even the annoying guy could see I've reached my daily limit. I gave him his change and even managed to squeeze out a mildly friendly „thank you for choosing Corkey's".

I greeted the next person in line, still not bothering to look up. The eerie quiet was just starting to get on my nerves when he spoke up.

"Long day?" he asked. The nonchalant quality of his voice finally got me curious enough. I knew this voice. I knew this person. And yet… when I looked up into those dark eyes, all I could feel was a strong sense of familiarity but no actual idea as to where, or whether I've met him before.

"You could say that," I supplied, still shamelessly staring at him. He had on a black baseball hat, but few strands of his golden hair – did I just say _golden?_ – were peeking out on the sides.

"Do you have long hair?" I blurted out. On the inside, I was cursing whatever got into me. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I thought he had to have long hair. As to why that even mattered to me, I had no idea.

He looked taken aback for a moment, then smoothed down his features into the same annoying nonchalance from before. Except now, he had a tiny smirk playing at the right corner of his mouth.

"Indeed I do. May I ask why is that of any concern to you?"

"You may. I might not have an answer for you though." I muttered, looking down again, realizing I scanned every item on the counter. "Would you like to pay with cash–

"Card, thank you," he interrupted me. "Have you been working here long?"

"A week. I'm stepping in for someone," I answered, holding out the chip and pin machine to him, fascinated by my light nail polish.

"That would be Trish, I presume?" He was awfully slow, as if deliberately stalling time so he could ask more of his weirdly personal questions.

I sighed, sparing him one more look. "You presume right," I said. I did not expect to see his eyes boring into mine as I lifted my head. It was with a strange intensity too, an urgency unfamiliar, and thus quite unsettling to me.

Fortunately, our silent staring match was cut short by a customer in line. "Um, sir? Are you done?" he asked. Baseball cap apologized profusely but I could see that he had more questions for me, so with a very fake smile I thanked him for choosing Corkey's. He seemed to get my reluctance to converse with him any longer and with a nod, walked off.

I finished roughly an hour later, not really paying attention to anyone after my awkward conversation with creepy baseball hat guy. I felt an odd sense of longing after he left. It wasn't for him, but it was because of him. As if his absence took away my only chance of learning some big secret that would prove vital to me in the long run. As if his appearance meant something for my poor excuse for a life.

I gave my key back to the store manager after closing. Susan was working late as usual, busying herself with everything; whether it was part of her job description, or not.

"Leaving already?" she asked, looking up from a bunch of papers.

I put my hands in my pocket, rocking back on my heels. "Yeah, well… have to make dinner for the family and all that." She rolled her eyes at my lousy attempt at a joke. It was no secret I lived alone in a tiny flat downtown.

"We're gonna miss you here."

I let loose a bitter laugh. "No, you won't," I said.

"Hey, a couple of nagging idiots won't erase the fact that you did outstanding work here. Your sister might be the social one, but you're way more precise, darlin'," she scolded me.

"Thanks, Susan. Means a lot," I said truthfully. Being compared to my sister in a somewhat positive light was not something I was used to. „Wish I could help out tomorrow too, but–"

"But you hate this job, I get it. Don't worry about it. Go ace that job interview, hon." She patted my hand resting on the table she was sitting behind. „And give Trish my regards."

"Yeah, will do. Don't work too late. Bye."

"Bye, darlin'."

* * *

Stepping outside, the first thing I noted was the change of weather. When I started work in the morning, it was bright and a bit chilly, courtesy of early January. Chilly was too mild a word for the evening temperature. Cold wind was blowing my hair every which way, making what would've been a mere sprinkle to be something akin to a tempest. I tried to walk as fast as I could, but the droplets attacking my face made it hard to keep my eyes open enough to see the way.

I was now close enough to see my car parked at the back of the store. That's when I saw him. Even if he hadn't been wearing the baseball cap, I would've recognized him from his posture and overall air of confidence. He held himself as I imagined royalty would. That particular thought, yet again with its familiarity, somehow made my heartbeat pick up. He was leaning against the wall, the overhang barely sheltering him from the rain.

I tried to walk past him with the same air of certainty he emanated, though I couldn't help but make a very slight detour, to put more space between us. I was very close to my car now, not daring to look back, since I couldn't hear any steps behind me. I had good hearing, which made me too confident in these kind of situations. Even if the wind _was_ working against me. Just as I was about to fish out my keys, I felt a hand on my arm, and it felt as though the whole storm caught its breath with me.

"Wait."


	3. Chapter 2

**Legolas' POV**

I was late for supper, as always, but hopefully by now all of the Roman family were used to my antics. Too often was I lost in my thoughts, my _memories_ , which made it hard to accept reality from time to time. A reality in which I had obligations and responsibilites.

On the way to the house, I managed to hop into Corkey's for a bottle of Merlot and some sweets for the children. I even bought some groceries for myself, eager to try out a new recipe when I got home. Cooking was a pastime I took up long after my arrival on Earth. I never did have the need for it before, content with eating what nature had to offer, or enjoying the simple meals the royal cooks back home made for us.

 _Home._

I did not even know where it lay anymore. So long has it been since I left the lands of my fathers and journeyed east with the Fellowship. I was no longer the prince, prodigal son of the Elvenking. No longer part of a company against evil. I was no longer anything. I thought my life would end once Estel left Arda, but it did not. I survived and accepted that grief as part of myself, and I never stopped fighting. I once promised Aragorn that I would see the glory of Men restored, the lands of his kin cleansed from the evil that still lingered. I lived by that promise. Until it was time to leave.

I left for the Undying Lands with my friend at my side, hoping to escape as well as start anew. I was even hoping to be reunited with my mother, of whom father never talked much. I was to be reborn there, rid of my grief for all mortals left behind.

And reborn I was. Only not where I hoped.

The moment I woke up on Earth, I knew I was not in the right place. The air was stale and foreign, not like I was used to in Arda. Certainly not as I expected Valinor to be. I remembered heading there though, and somewhere deep inside I knew I managed to reach it. So why was I here, in this godforsaken land? What happened to my friend and travel companion? I vowed to find out.

Seventy years I had to search, seventy years to think and ponder my very existence. Meaningless years I never came closer to finding answers. I was alone, in a land similar to Middle-Earth yet nothing alike. It didn't help that I managed to wake up in the middle of a raging war. A war amongst Men, no less. In this world, there was no great darkness to fight. No faceless evil to march against. It was only Men, never failing to come up with more ways to kill each other.

I had no interest in fighting their battles for them, not when I was not a part of their distorted ideologies and did not see eye to eye with their charismatic leaders. No choice was left for me in this new world, however. Finding myself in the middle of Austria in the year 1940, I was forced to enlist in the armies of the Axis powers as a dutiful citizen of Graz, then part of Nazi Germany. The war provided me with a place to say and a purpose in life. A purpose to kill for a reason not known to me. Needless to say, it left its mark. I fought for all the wrong reasons, and by the time the war came to an end, I was but a shell of my old self.

I lived in Vienna by that time, which fell under Soviet jurisdiction. I used that as my card to get away from the country in which so much grief had befallen me. That's how I ended up in Poland, where I had a chance to atone for my sins for fighting on the wrong side of an overall unjust war. On the side that claimed many a life amongst the Poles. This decision of mine to move there also incidentally led to my successful escape to West Germany, after taking part in the 1956 Poznań protests against the communist government. I finally felt like I was on the right side again, fighting against a greater evil that wanted to swallow Europe, a land where Men thrived in more peaceful times.

After I heard of the revolution taking place in Hungary, I was to go there to offer what little help I could, fighting yet again for the oppressed, and thus never ceasing my atonement for the sins that were looming over my life, far more sinister then the smoke from the fires of Mount Doom ever seemed.

My responsibilities lay elsewhere, however, and as the pregnant wife of the one person that ever came close to being called my friend had a chance at a better life, we knew it was time to go. Bound by a promise to my dying mate, I delivered his lover safe and sound to the city of Southampton, where she delivered her child and stayed with me until her premature death at the age of thirty-five.

It was in the year 1979 that it was time to leave again. My mate's living relatives decided to pack up and head for the United States, in search of the dream that fooled a lot of people at that time. Seeing as I would've had no other ties to Southampton were they to leave, I went with.

It turned out to be a good decision on their part. They managed to live the American Dream as much as a poor Polish family emigrating from England could. I thought I could finally settle down too, but living in utter peace for the first time since my coming to Earth did not help, what psychologists would call, my identity crisis. I wanted to leave this place I have survived many years in. I have never decieved myself into thinking I had a life here. My life ended the moment I reached the Undying Lands, which I had no recollection of. Not in Graz, Wrocław or any of the other places I've spent more than a year in did I feel remotely at home. All I did was survive, and for what, I did not know. I think in the beginning I could fool myself into thinking there was a way back. By the time my path took me to the shores of America, I was left with little to no hope.

Few things I was sure of; Men, they knew not of the elves, or any other race besides themselves. The Valar held no meaning here, for the peoples of Earth believed one entity, God, ruled over all of creation. By the end of the twentieth century, it was a miracle in itself if they believed in any higher power at all. The greatest evil in their lives was the evil they created, and the Undying Lands meant the prospect of a better life waiting for them in the rich West. Some did not even have that option, living from day to day in countries where poverty reached heights that would have been impossible to imagine even in the poorest villages of the Mark.

I told myself year after year that I would give up, and sometimes it really felt like I did. Yet seventy years later I was still searching for a familiar face in the crowd, holding my breath at seeing an ear pointy enough, a mane of hair dark enough, a booming laughter that echoed through the halls of Meduseld, or a child with just the right proportions to be mistaken for a Hobbit. I never gave up, not really.

Was it really a surprise then, that once again I managed let myself believe in something so impossible as _him_ , existing on the same Earth I was trapped on?

* * *

The line at Corkey's was going faster than usual, which was good for my tardiness. Normally, it took a much longer time to finish shopping there, even more so if the chatty young lady was behind the counter. And she almost always was. Not that I minded. I had nowhere else to be, most of the time. No urgent matter required my presence. I was, after all, just a gardener who never stayed in one place for too long, but always came back to this little state where nothing of importance ever seemed to happen.

I looked at my watch. I was late by forty minutes. The man in front of me was taking way too long. He was explaining something about his wife, and how she had already bought the item the cashier has just scanned. I did not know if he was that senile, or had nothing better to do than to hold up the line an hour before closing, but he was bloody good at it. I could see from the sales clerk's tense posture that she was not happy with him either, but she did not say anything. I admired her self-control, something she had in common with me on my better days.

After what might have been the fifth time, she finally had enough. _Now_ he noticed. It was hard not to. The way her eyes flared up when she lifted them to communicate her discontent gave a new meaning to the word „sharp". It was only for a second, but a second for an elf could last an eternity if caught in the right moment. And that moment, on a regular Thursday evening in the little shop on the outskirts, was something I knew I was going to remember until the Valar finally let me pass on.

That was the moment I saw _his_ eyes, staring shamelessly from the face of a twenty-something cashier girl, in a world where none of him should have existed.

* * *

 **A/N:** _First of all, thank you for not abandoning the story after one chapter. Hope you liked this one too, and do tell me what you thought about it! I live for constructive criticism._

 _Secondly, a big shout-out to Guest for taking the time to review, even if I would've liked them to expand a bit on their comment. I don't necessarily agree with what you wrote, but I'd be very glad to listen to your reasons so I can improve my writing, since it was by no means my intention for my character to appear as a Mary Sue, especially not after one chapter, when we don't even know her yet._


	4. Chapter 3

**Legolas' POV**

I was jittery on the way to the house, a sensation wholly unfamiliar to me. Three times I almost took a U-turn and headed right back to the shop, and three times I reminded myself not to make any rash decisions. First, I had to get to the Romans'. Then I would figure out the best choice of action to take. I still had time. All the time in the world, actually. Only maybe she did not.

The thought made me come to an abrupt halt, and that is when I realized I already left my destination by a few houses. Gripping the steering wheel, I let my thoughts wander back to my exchange with the clerk.

The girl had raven black hair, reaching just below her chin. Her face was all edges and hollows, which gave her an overall skeletal look. It was her eyes that made all the difference, that made her come alive. Two specks of grey staring from a sea of pale. She had the eyes of a king, of a prophecy, of hope brought by the silver light of dawn. She had Estel's eyes.

Even her voice, laced with suspicion and bitterness, reminded me of him. I could see by the way she evaluated me that she had no knowledge of my identity. I did, however, see a speck of recognition in her stare as she scanned my face. Maybe she knew of elves and recognized me for what I was. Maybe she heard about me from stories told by her ancestors.

Whatever the case, I've never been so sure in my life – my new life – that I was not alone. If his kin was alive here, maybe he was to be found too. Dropped off the face of Middle-Earth to land here, in the same land I was surviving in. Maybe I was brought here for a reason after all. Maybe if I looked hard enough, reached far enough, I would even find my own kind. Or was it just Gimli, son of Glóin, that followed me here? My last memory intact from my old life was with him, after all. Reaching the shores of the Undying Lands shoulder to shoulder. He might have been at the other side of Earth, for all I knew. A miner in the developing world. Maybe a businessman trying to make do. The thought put a smile on my face. Would he have aged a lot since coming here? Would time have been kind to him as it was to me?

* * *

By the time I snapped out of my daze, someone was running down the street, right towards me. I could here slippers flapping and splashing with each step, and I wondered briefly who was mad enough to wear them in such weather. The answer literally knocked on my door. I hastily opened the car, to come face to face with my friend and would be host.

"Thomas? What on earth are you doing here, in slippers too?" I exclaimed.

"Jane saw your car drive past, and you wouldn't pick up the bloody phone," he answered, teeth clattering in the cold.

"Get in, quickly now," I said, shaking my head. He did what I asked without a second thought, seemingly relieved to be sheltered from the outdoor shower. I could not care less he was dripping wet all over the interiors as I put the car in reverse. „You could have just waited for me, you know."

"We've been waiting for almost an hour. I thought something was up. What were you doing down here?"

"Thinking," I said almost inaudibly. „How mad is she?"

"Oh, you know, nothing you can't deal with. She's used to your antics, always asking me if you paint or whatever. Hell-bent on saying you must be an artist, which is a bloody stupid excuse for being late, if you ask me." He laughed, and I could not help but join him.

"An artist? That is not too original, mate."

"You haven't heard the best yet," he said, looking at me sideways.

"It gets even better? Well, do not keep me in suspense!"

"She's been saying you must be a spy or something. You know, a government goon of some kind," he explained conspiratiorally. I was booming with laughter by this point, a sound which reminded me strongly of a certain dwarf. I thanked the Valar there was no elf here to witness my falling from grace. "And there she comes."

I followed his gaze and indeed, a woman was running towards the car I parked in front of the Roman house, clutching an umbrella in her hands. Thomas, always the impatient one, jumped out of the vehicle and started towards her. It was an endearing sight, watching them cuddle under the small thing barely giving them any shelter. I followed after a moment, and Jane clutched my arm to pull me closer too. We must have been a silly sight, three adults trying to fit under a ruined umbrella. But she would not let go. Not Jane Roman.

We all shook of our jackets and boots in the hall, trying and failing to look presentable after only seconds outside. Thomas looked the worst, I imagined. He was covered in mud right up to his knees. At least I could make use of my elvish traits and walk lightly on my feet, thus looking a tad cleaner than him. His wife looked best, though her red, straight locks were reaching every which way.

Tom said out loud what we all thought. "That wasn't something I would repeat anytime soon." He was already drying his hair with a towel. I was just starting to wonder where he got it, when a towel was wrapped around my neck too, baseball hat stolen before I could even do so much as blink.

"Legolas Greenleaf," she greeted me, staring into my eyes as if searching for something. Her voice would have sounded angry to anyone else who did not know better.

"Jane Roman." I followed her example, keeping my poker face intact. „You look lovely as always." She could hide her smile no longer.

"It's wonderful to see you, Legolas," she squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"I am sorry for being late. As usual..."

"It's fine, bud, now get my woman off of you," Tom said, half-laughing, half-serious.

Jane shrugged, then pecked her husband. "Sorry, love. If you brought him more often I wouldn't be so overwhelmed every time I see him."

"As if I had any power over him," he muttered under his breath, earning a light smack on the back of the head from me. He would be surprised to know how much power he had over me, what with being my best friend and only direct descendant of my first mate on Earth.

We went to the dining room shortly afterwards. The children were already there, sitting obediently at the table. The older one, Michael, came running as soon as he saw me. Anthony was a different case entirely. He was very young, and seldom saw me. I was not even sure he remembered who I was anymore. He looked a bit frightened as he eyed me timidly from under his lashes. Whereas Michael crashed into my legs and started jumping up and down.

"Leggy Leggy Legolas didyoubringmeapresent?" he cried in one breath.

"I brought you sweets, is that all right?" I asked.

"What kind of sweets?" he eyed me suspiciously, untangling his arms from my knees.

"Hazelnut chocolate and turkish delight. Only the best for the Roman Crown Prince," I answered, looking apologetically at Jane. She hated it when I called him that. Fretted that it would go to his head, which was utter nonsense in my opinion.

"Yesplease!" he shrieked, reaching up with his hands. I handed him the prize, then walked over to his brother.

"Hello, Anthony. I am Legolas. Do you remember me?" I said quietly, crouching next to him. He nodded shyly, ever so often sending a frightened look over my shoulder. „Say, what do you think about blueberry cakes?"

He shrugged, but I could see excitement kindling in his eyes, so I continued.

"I happen to have one in my bag but I am not sure I can eat it. Do you think you could take it from me? I would rather you ate it before your father did. He is already quite fat as it is," I whispered, earning a chuckle from him. Seeing his eager nod, I reached into my bag and slipped him the cake. Clutching it, he ran into his room.

I slowly turned around to find myself face to face with a curious Jane and a suspicous husband of hers. Michael was unwrapping the chocolate in the corner, oblivious to his circumstances.

"I'm not sure I want to know what that was all about," Thomas said, his tone disapproving.

"You do not" I said with a sly smile.

We all took our places around the table, engaging in conversation about interesting topics. I always looked forward to these quiet evenings in the company of my friends, eager to discuss the happenings of the world and hear about their positively ordinary lives. This time, however, I found myself losing track of our conversations more often than not, sending apologetic looks every time I made them repeat something they just said. The children left after we finished eating, and soon it was just the three of us. A quick look at my watch confirmed that I have been in their company for forty-five minutes. It was way too early to leave, yet I could barely keep myself in the chair.

* * *

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Tom asked from the doorway as I loaded the dishwasher. I heard him following me in and had an inkling as to what he was going to say.

"Yes. Just let me wrap this up," I said, placing the last wine glass in the machine. When I turned to him, he was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a frown on his face as he looked at me.

"What's up with you, mate? And don't tell me it's nothing," he added, seeing my expression. I was, in fact, on the verge of saying just that.

"I am merely more lost in my thoughts than usual. It is nothing for you to worry about," I reassured him, smiling.

"More than usual? You are all over the place, Legolas. I've known you literally all my life, and you've never acted like this before. I'm not stupid. I know you hide a lot of things from my family, from _me_."

I interjected. "And I am sorry for that."

"You don't ever have to be sorry, not to me! I know you're different from us, and that's alright. I just want you to understand... whatever it is that's going on with you now, I'm here for you. _We_ are here for you," he said, and I could see the sincerity in his every word. It meant more to me than he could ever know, but it was still useless. I was not planning on burdening him _or_ his family with the troubles of my past. It was more than enough that he accepted me the way I was, not part of his race, someone never changing while he has grown into a fine man since the first time we met, when he was but a toddler clinging to his mother's legs.

I walked up to him. "Thank you, my friend." I lay my hand on his shoulder, to which he responded by pulling me into a tight embrace reminiscent of a bear hug. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It felt as though he was a child again, running up to me whenever I came to visit them. Technically, he _was_ still a child compared to my thousands of years.

Letting go and looking into his eyes, so young amidst the few wrinkles starting to show, I wondered if this was my future. Visiting the Roman descendants as their uncle, their friend, their brother. Watching them live just to see them wither away later. Watch Michael and Anthony grow into fine young men while their father passed onto wherever it was Men of Earth went after their deaths.

It seemed more a curse than a blessing to me.

Did I really not have any more purpose in this life? Was I not destined to find Estel's kin and continue the work he laid out for me?

"Are you lost again?" Tom broke me out from my thought spirals.

"Always. Though, I think I might be able to find my way now..." I said, cocking one eyebrow at him uncertainly. He slapped me on the back, a smile immediately replacing the frown.

"What are you waiting for then? Go"

* * *

 **A/N:** _Is Legolas too OOC to your liking? What did you think about his backstory in the previous chapter? I read a few Legolas stories and hoped to do a fresh take on him with this one. In modern days, he is usually portrayed as a rich guy who can distance himself from the happenings around him, never forced to engage in things like war or deal with helplessness and poverty. What if he was as powerless as any man during the course of the 20th century?_

 _Let me know what you thought about him and the story in general!_


	5. Chapter 4

**Tori's POV**

"Wait," he said, hand still on my arm.

I turned to face him, which might not have been the best decision, seeing as I was now trapped between the car and my attacker. The movement forced him to drop his hand, but he didn't move otherwise.

"What do you want?" I asked a bit higher than I would've preferred. Even though the storm was raging around us and my voice came out as scarcely more than a whisper, I was certain he heard every word.

"I just want to talk," he said, never taking a step back. Cogs and wheels were turning in my brain as I tried very hard to find a way out of this. I was stuck in a dark parking lot, in the middle of a storm that would've drowned out any scream of mine, and within arm's reach of a stalker that waited for me to finish work in the middle of a bloody tempest.

My chances of escape were _very_ slim.

"Alright, we can talk. Let's get in my car first. The wind is too strong," I reasoned, a tad more confidently. If I could just make him believe I wasn't afraid of him and that I'd do exactly as he wanted me to.

"Right, yes," he said, and I could even see a slight smile tugging at his lips. That just made things a whole lot creepier.

"So, I'll just go to the other side," I started to say, and even to myself it sounded forced, "and open the car so we can both get in."

By the time I finished the sentence, I was already edging away from him, one hand searching for the keys in my bag, the other fisted at my side, prepared to protect myself if needed. He was following my movements with keen eyes, and I thought this must've been the way predators looked at their victims before leaping at them.

I never turned my back on him, my gaze searching for every little movement of his that would be my cue to get the hell away as fast as I could. He never did move though, not until I hastily got in the car and locked the door, at which he tried to open the other one on the passenger's side, to no avail.

„Sorry, asshole. You won't get lucky tonight," With one last look, I put the car in reverse and drove out of the parking lot. He was trying to say something, but the locked Ford and raging storm combination was enough to drown out his noise. I could see him trying to follow from the wing mirror, but even he wasn't stupid enough to run after a moving car.

* * *

Later, in my bed, I thought back to my strange encounter with stalker guy. I couldn't help but feel like something was off about him. Something other than the fact that he was a creep. He seemed familiar in the shop, but maybe that was also owing to him asking about me. Not that he was that pushy or anything, but it was still highly awkward.

Or did I just make it out to be like that?

I couldn't believe it. I was having victim's guilt because of a guy that attacked me in a dark parking lot!

Did he, though? Other than grabbing my hand to get my attention, what crime did he commit? I mean, sure, he invaded my personal space and acted really weird, but maybe he mistook me for someone he knew, just like I did.

It was still textbook creepy though. Him waiting for the lonely cashier girl to finish work, making sure there was no one around and trying to get in the car with her.

I was going to get a serious case of whiplash if I continued down this line of thought, so instead I hit the shower and started getting ready for bed. I couldn't afford to be sidetracked, not when I had an important job interview coming up in less than ten hours.

When I woke up next morning, I had déjà vu that would've put Denzel Washington to shame.

* * *

 **Legolas' POV**

"Do I look frightening to you?" I asked Tom as soon as he opened the door. He looked taken aback, but stepped aside to let me in anyway.

"Gracing us with your presence two days in a row. What gives, mate?"

"Just answer the question, please," I said with a sigh, already in the kitchen and leaning against the counter.

"Well, I mean... you did just barge in without any notice, looking like you haven't slept a wink, which obviously you didn't, but that's not the point here. You're also wearing that stupid black cap which makes you look like someone who ain't want to be seen," he babbled on, until I held my hand up to halt his nonsense, "so I might be inclined to say that yes, you would appear frightening to someone who doesn't know you."

I slumped onto the nearest chair and buried my face in my hands.

"Did you just–are you sulking, Legolas Greenleaf?" he asked, and I did not have to look up to know he had disbelief plastered all over his face.

"I did something really, _utterly_ stupid. I might have blown my only chance at getting answers." I said, my voice muffled by my palms.

"Right. Talk me through what happened?"

I told him of course, omitting the parts which only ever played out in my head. Like the fact that she knew what I was, or how she was most probably the kin of a friend from a different world.

"This was after you left yesterday, was it?"

"Yes."

"Let me see if I've got this right. She reminded you of someone you knew, and you wanted to find out if she had any relation to them?" he confirmed. I nodded.

"So instead of asking her in proper daylight, like a normal person would, you wait for her in the parking lot, after closing, no one around, to tell her you want to talk?" he asked, but I knew better than to answer the rhetorical question. "'Cause, mate, it looks to me from here you acted exactly as a sexual predator would. No wonder she was freaked out."

"Bloody hell," I muttered, the words rolling naturally off my tongue, even though I have not used a swear word in what are probably decades.

Now that I heard him say it, it sounded worse than I initially thought. I probably even managed to startle her, what with touching her from behind. Not that Thomas needed to know that particular bit of information.

"Bloody hell indeed. Where's the girl now? Hope you haven't got her stacked away somewhere, next to your common sense."

"How very amusing of you," I said drily. "She probably went home after that."

"Alright, then you'll try again today. It's not something you can't fix. You'll just tell her you made a mistake and it will all be fine. She probably won't be that nervous if you approach her around other people." He shrugged, trying really hard to look reassuring. "You know, eyewitnesses and all that." It would have been entertaining to see Thomas this way. He was always a bit too respectful to my liking around me. It was only on rare occasions like this that he did not hold back at all.

"Thank you, Thomas. I will do that. I apologize for barging in like this and pouring out my ridiculous problems to you."

"Don't be like that. I'm more than happy to listen to you, even if I can't offer much help. And I'm working from home today," he said with a lazy smile, "which means I have the house all to myself."

I laughed heartily. "Well then, I will leave you to whatever it was you were doing before I disturbed your peace."

He walked me to the door, but I could sense he had something more to say as I shrugged on my jacket.

I raised one eyebrow. "Out with it, Thomas."

"I was just thinking–I mean, it's none of my business–but I was wondering–"

I held up my hand. "Tom."

He took a deap breath, then launched into it. "All these years, and I have never heard you speak of other people. You had acquaintances and colleagues, sure, but never heard you mention _friends_."

I frowned. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, maybe that's the problem. You don't really know how to approach people. The way you went about this girl proves that."

"I will consider what you are saying."

"I don't want you to consider it!" he said exasparatedly. "I want you to go out, meet new faces, have fun! You know, like us humans do."

I knew he was right. Seventy years is a long time. I knew the way of people by then. I knew the way they acted, the way they went about each other. They were not that much different from my previous mortal acquiantances. Still, it was hard to shake off old habits. Back on Arda, an elf did not just mingle with human folks. We had our ways, they had theirs. Which meant I never felt odd not mixing with them here either. I acted my part as a human. I was a soldier, then a fisherman, a sailor, a librarian, now even a gardener... but I have not once considered overstepping my boundaries by becoming one of them. Actually becoming one of them.

I could not let myself think like that, because then I would have yearned for more than I could get here. First, maybe another friend I could never open up to. Then a lover. At one point, though, I would reach for something I could never get. A family. And it would just bring me back to my present, my reality. I would be back at the very place I started.

Alone and without hope.

* * *

 **A/N:** _What did you think about this chapter? Did you think Tori's reaction was realistic? Did you ever have to face a situation similar to hers? Do you like Legolas' relationship with Thomas? Do you think he should throw out the baseball cap? Do you want them to finally sit down and talk and hate me for putting it off?_

 _Let me know your thoughts on this one!_


	6. Chapter 5

**Tori's POV**

"I'm telling you, it was awful."

"I'm sure you're just being dramatic. It couldn't have been that bad. Yes, sweetie, you can take that to your room."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course I am–no, bad dog!–sorry, Vic, can I call you back?"

"Sure."

"Thanks–I said put it–" BEEP.

It was always a delight, talking to my sister. I put the phone back on the dresser, letting loose a troubled sigh. Again and again I went over the interview in my head. It all seemed to go well, until he asked that ridiculous question.

It's no wonder I spaced out. It had nothing to do with my sanity and everything to do with the weird dreams I had the night before. I haven't had a dream like that in years. Maybe I haven't had a dream that vivid in a decade, and even then, it was more like a fragment of my imagination. Something my childish mind cooked up.

I thought I had forgotten all about it, but apparently, that was not the case. It didn't help that it was mostly wizards and those hideous creatures this time around. No, not wizards, plural. _The Grey Wizard_. He used to appear in my dreams a lot, but I couldn't for the life of me remember his real name. Not real. The one I made up. I reminded myself never to forget about that.

Then I was running like a pack of hounds was chasing me. Only it was I who chased them. Those ugly, distorted things that had something of mine. So I ran tirelessly, not letting the weariness catch up to me or the pain in my limbs pull me to a stop.

I was not alone. Two friends were with me. The dwarf and the elf. I never saw them though, I just knew they were there, following me.

It was strange, being able to recall those images so vividly, as if they were memories rather than dreams.

And now, because of those stupid, ridiculous dreams and an even stupider, absurd question, I probably failed my third job interview this month. At least until now I could say I gave it my best, but this... this was just utter humiliation, even for me.

I picked up my phone to send a quick message to my sister.

 _Tell Susan I can hop in if you're still on sick leave next week. Hope you get better though. Love, Tori._

This must've been the way homeless people felt when they realized there was no way to survive on the streets without turning into a beggar.

Okay, that might've been a slightly extreme comparison. My sister was right. I did have a flair for the dramatic. It didn't change the fact that I had to swallow my pride and crawl back to the one place I never wanted to return to. Not after what happened at the parking lot, and the strange feeling I got whenever _he_ came to mind.

* * *

I woke up on Monday to the sound of my alarm going off. The damned thing was still set for 6 AM since I forgot to change it from last week. My mobile showed two missed calls from Trish which I probably slept through. I quickly dialled the number and put her on speaker.

It was a low voice that answered my call. "Hello?"

"Hey, Ian, it's me. Could you pass the phone to Trish?"

"Oh, hi, Tori. Yeah, just a sec, I think she's in the shower," he said drowsily. I faintly heard a knock, before he shouted, "Your sister's on the phone!".

I couldn't hear her reply though, just the sounds of a door squeaking and water running.

"What's up, Vic? I'm kind of in the middle of something," she said.

"You called me, remember? Late last night?" I reminded her, my feet tapping impatiently on the floor.

"Oh, yeah, you're right! Sorry, I'm a bit in over my head," she explained, and I could hear the apologetic tone in her voice. A tap was turned off in the background. "I know I told you I was going in today, but something came up. Ian said he'll do it, so in theory I could go back today, but I mean if you woke up anyway..."

"Yeah, it's fine. I wanted to work after all," I lied. I did want to earn money, but I was hoping she was gonna go back this week, thus forcing me to find another option. After that she thanked me so many times I was forced to hang up on her for fear of being late. I washed up, put on the only clean clothes I had which weren't too formal for a clerk, and only when reaching the car did I realize I forgot to brush my hair. I hastily put it up in a ponytail before driving onto the main street. Traffic was awful, and I wished I headed out earlier to avoid it. I managed to reach Corkey's exactly the same time as Susan did. And she wasn't very punctual.

"Tori? Your sister called, I thought you'd be inside by now," she exclaimed, shutting the door with all the force of a 5'2 she-wolf.

"I'm already there," I told her, running inside to find a man wearing a jacket made of real leather lingering a few steps from the doorway. You may wonder how I knew it wasn't artificial. I wish I could blame it on my better than average eyesight, but it was really all due to the fact that I bumped face first into his chest the moment I walked in the door. He caught my elbows to steady me, which was just as well since I nearly lost my footing.

I stumbled over an apology when I realized who the chest belonged to.

"I will scream," I threatened. He let go of my elbows as if they burned him.

"No, please, I just want to talk." He put his hands up, taking a step back.

"What about?" I bit out assessing my surroundings. The shop opened in ten minutes, which meant there were no customers around save for a few impatient smokers who wanted to stock up on cigarettes before going to work. Aside from them, there was Maggie, the cashier who occupied the other register, and Susan was going to enter any second now.

Taking all this into consideration, it was fairly unlikely that anyone would attack me on the spot. Anyone sane, that is. I had no idea about the mental capabilites of this guy. He seemed awfully naïve based on our last encounter. A tad obsessed too.

I didn't let my guard down completely, but I did stand up straighter and relaxed after reassuring myself that I was in no immediate danger.

"I would like to go for a coffee after work, if you have the time."

"Are you out of your mind?" I snarled. "I don't have time for your stalker tendencies!"

"I know we got off on the wrong foot, but–"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Got off on the wrong foot? I could call the police right now for the little stunt you pulled on Thursday!" I should've been shouting by this point, but instead my words came out as no more than an angry whisper. I marvelled at my own composure.

He looked miserable. "That was a complete and utter misunderstanding!"

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him not to play with me or else, but I could not escape the sincerity in his words. He appeared downright mortified at the mention of our last encounter. It didn't help that he looked different now. Gone was the baseball cap and I could finally take a proper look at his features. His hair was indeed long, golden locks caught in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. It framed a face surprisingly youthful and mature at the same time. A face that was still eerily familiar.

"Do I know you?" I asked him after a long pause, and I could've sworn he perked up at my words. Before he had the chance to reply, my temporary boss came bursting through the front door.

"Why are you still here?" she shrieked. "There'll be customers swarming this place any minute now."

"I'll be there in a sec," I said, starting towards the register. I didn't need to look to know he followed close behind.

"Give me ten minutes of your time after work. That is all I am asking," he pleaded. I turned to glare at him.

"Five. And I'm choosing the place."

"Thank you," I heard him say, but I was already preoccupied with getting everything in order before Susan bit off my head. By the time I turned around, he was already gone. I wondered briefly how he knew when I was going to get off work, but decided it didn't really matter. If he came at the wrong time, well, tough luck. I didn't really want to deal with him anyway.

* * *

I finished eight hours and a splitting headache later. Susan was still a bit mad about my morning behaviour, but she retracted when I told her I only got a call from Trish today, and that traffic was unbearable by the time I hit the road. Which was part of the reason why I couldn't start my shift at the proper time.

Of course, I didn't tell her about the man I was bumping into one too many times in the past couple of days, and who was again waiting for me in the parking lot when I went outside. I parked in front today, just in case, and concluded smugly that the unease I felt in the beginnig was almost nonexistent by now.

He slowly approached me, as if expecting me to bolt with every step he took.

"Come on, we're walking," I told him when he was within earshot.

He fell into step beside me. "Where are we going?"

"There's a gas station just a couple minutes' walk from here. We can have coffee there."

"I see. I am sorry you were late for work because of me."

I shot him a suspicious look. "It wasn't really your fault, but now that you mention it, how did you know when I was gonna come in? Or finish, for that matter."

"I did not know. I talked to one of your colleagues on Friday, and they said that you might be coming in on Monday, but I should call you to make sure."

"Of course," I snorted, "Maggie would assume we know each other." Then something occurred to me. "Did you wait outside the whole time?" I asked, horrified.

"No, I overheard your boss on the phone. She was speaking to the girl you are stepping in for. Mentioned that you were going to finish at four."

"Good." Even though I wouldn't have cared either way.

We walked the rest of the way not talking, and only upon reaching the station did I start to think about how awkward it must've been for him. I was too buried in my own thoughts to even notice the silence. He opened the door for me, something I was not used to, then payed for my coffee as he ordered a cup of tea. I went to sit by the table in the corner, which was secluded enough for us to talk, but still in the cashier's line of sight.

"Here you go," he said, setting down the coffee in front of me.

"Are you British?" I blurted out.

"No, but I did spend a lot of time in England. Is it the accent that gave it away?"

"Yeah, that and," I stared pointedly at his hands, which were just about to ruin a perfectly normal cup of tea with something that belonged in cereal, "you're just about to desecrate your beverage with milk."

He laughed, and the sound of his voice did something unexpected to me. It made me light-headed, confused, and somewhere deep inside, I could've burst with joy.

"A habit I picked up in Southampton," he said, eyes twinkling with mirth. I tried to keep my face blank as I composed myself.

"I wasn't sure about your accent at first. It seems British most of the time, but it also has this... quality to it that I can't quite place."

"I have been to a lot of places."

"Your parents move around a lot?"

"You could say that." There was a faraway look in his eyes as he said it, and I couldn't help but feel like he was not telling me something important.

"So," I said, taking a long sip of coffee, "remind me why we're here again?"

"I know why I am here, but I am honestly surprised you agreed to come. I did not think you would."

"I didn't want you showing up at my workplace all the time," I said, gritting my teeth.

"Is that the only reason?"

I was going to get really antsy _very_ soon if he kept doing that.

"Did you seriously drag me out here to ask _me_ questions? I thought you wanted to talk," I threw up my hands.

"I am sorry. I thought this was considered as talking. I never said I wanted to speak to you about something specific."

I couldn't argue that point. "Fine. I agreed to this meeting because you keep reminding me of someone."

"An acquaintance of yours?"

"Well, if I knew, I wouldn't be here now, would I?" I snapped, then added in a friendlier tone, "Why are you here?"

"For the same reason, as strange as that may sound. For my part though, I remember you from long ago," he said, tilting his head to the side.

I couldn't help but ask, "How long?"

I sucked in a breath when I heard his reply.

"From another lifetime."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Let me know what you thought about this chapter: did you like the conversations? Do you think Tori has the potential to be an interesting character? Do you think she'll finally figure out what is right in front of her? Do you think Legolas is a highly awkward elf who really should go out more? Is it Tori's POV or Legolas' that you enjoy more? Do you think I should write rather than ask stupid questions in the author's notes?_

 _Thank you for the new favourites and follows, and a shout-out to WickedGreene13 and ninienna for taking the time to review! I hope not to disappoint._


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